


Jupiter

by tobyneedspie



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, kink undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobyneedspie/pseuds/tobyneedspie
Summary: CJ asks Toby to do something for her and it leads to a few discoveries neither one of them anticipated.
Relationships: C. J. Cregg/Toby Ziegler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Jupiter

**Author's Note:**

> My dear Yas_Snape, you're _finally_ getting your way and it's getting posted....
> 
> Also, a huge shout out to baranskibitch for being a great beta :-)

He awakens slowly, struggling to clear the cobwebs of exhaustion enough to open his eyes. The last few weeks have been a particularly hellish stretch and they’ve had little time to do anything beyond collapse into bed and stumble back out the door a few hours later. As he comes more to his senses, he finds himself half slung over a warm, soft body and as the clues finally filter through to his brain, he finds himself smiling… CJ. 

He resists his first instinct to instantly roll off of her, instead pulling her closer and humming in contentment. Though she is far from slight, her frame is more elegant and delicate than his and something ingrained in him feels guilty that he doesn’t treat her as gently as his instincts tell him to. The niggling voice in the back of his mind always worries about him being too heavy against her, but almost every time he tries to move away from her she pulls him right back on top of her like a living blanket. He’s not 100% sure, but he’s reasonably sure she sleeps better with him draped over her. She’s told him over and over that she loves the feel of his weight and heat on top of her and he believes her-- it’s just a challenge to turn off his protective instincts. 

He takes a deep breath, drawing in her scent deep into his bones to keep in reserve for when he needs patience. Opening his eyes, he finds her neck within tantalizing reach and gives into the temptation to kiss it slowly, gently, tasting her as he had a few hours ago. 

He’s no longer buzzed from the Jack, but is quickly falling intoxicated by the familiar taste of her skin, taking his time before moving down towards her collarbone. The unmistakable hitch in her breath makes him smile again now that he’s summoned her from sleep with his ministrations and now the real fun can begin. The sudden change in tempo melts into a sleepy purr as he takes her awakening as an opportunity to continue to his meandering path downwards more boldly, tracing random paths with his tongue. She reaches down and cradles his chin, tilting his head back and up to meet her in a slow, still drowsy kiss.

“mmmmmm…. Done sleeping, I take it,” she says with a playful lilt to her sleep-roughened voice when they finally break apart to breathe.

“Yeah,” he says, punctuating it with another kiss. “I awoke to a vision in front of me, had to make sure it wasn’t a mirage,” he says playfully.

She blushes at that, smiling the shy smile that crops up when he tells her such things. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she says. He knows she secretly revels in his descriptions of her, although she’s said many times that he makes it up for the seduction. All she sees are her jowls and wrinkles and clumsy limbs, and he sees miles of glorious legs, breasts that are the perfect handful, and a smile that stops his heart along with traffic. It's a battle he figures he'll never win, but he won't stop trying to convince her that through his eyes she is perfect.

“I know. But it’s easy when I’m just speaking truth,” he says as he strokes his thumb along her cheek.

Words are easy for him. They swirl around in his mind constantly, screaming to get out. He can construct the most vehement arguments or the sweetest sonnets, and she makes him want to write them both. Pages and pages of her beauty but also her fire and heart, in the style of the classics. He wants to write a manifesto on her flesh, every kiss and stroke another line of his desire being written on her in invisible ink. The world of words is the only one he truly understands, although he tends to think he’s learning the one of her body. The problems always tend to arise when he opens his mouth when other people think he should have kept his mouth shut.

She rolls her eyes at him, but he knows she’s secretly pleased because she knows he doesn’t waste words, especially on her. They may come easy to him, but he also knows the power they hold so he uses them judiciously. 

She pushes him away slightly and his heart jumps, upset about sudden rejection-- but he lets out a breath when all she does is push herself up, shoving the pillows behind her and using them to prop herself up. He sits back on his heels and looks at her, eyes raking over every inch of her bare skin and enjoying the view. So perfect, he thinks. 

He crawls up to straddle her and kiss her some more, which she indulges for a little bit but then pulls him down against her again. He grinds his hips against hers in an imitation of what he hopes to be doing in a few minutes-- he’s half hard but well on his way to full. He groans into her mouth as she clutches his ass firmly in encouragement, and he can’t wait to get lost inside her again; he’d stay there forever if he could. He’s pretty sure she’d be quite happy to keep him there too, although sometimes his mind trips over why she would choose him most of all. 

She gently pushes him away again and this time he gives her a questioning look. It’s not rejection, as she clearly has something in mind. He’s willing to play along since he knows what’s waiting in reward and she’s tapped his curiosity. 

“Turn around,” she says. As he shifts around she opens her legs wider and settles into a more comfortable position for herself. Her hands are back on him as soon as she’s settled and she leads him gently to sit between her legs with his back to her chest, an odd arrangement for what they were clearly headed toward. Now he’s really curious and very awake, but more than willing to let this play out. Naked in bed with her can only lead to good things, even if he has no idea what the adventure along the way is going to be.

“Lean back”, she tells him, pulling him firmly but slowly against her chest. He complies, as he would always do anything she asks-- but has to fight the instinct that just isn’t used to the idea of the one being held this way. Something ingrained in him is making his skin crawl, telling him he should push away, that this isn’t the man’s place. Other parts of him are intrigued at the feeling of her behind him like this, feeling the soft pillows of her breasts against his back, the feeling of so much of her smooth, warm skin against his. It’s only working because she’s the only one he’s been able to completely trust with his soul-- he never was able to fully give himself to Andi, no matter how much he loved her. He figures maybe defeating that instinct will come with time… a few years, maybe.

“That’s it”, she coos, crossing her arms over his chest and pulling him bodily against her, her long, elegant legs straddling his.

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all. He’s finding it kind of soothing to be completely surrounded by her in a different way. The sensations are different but not wholly unpleasant, and he’ll take just about any excuse to be naked in a bed with her. She is cautious yet confident, stroking softly up and down his chest, gentling him like a wild animal she expects to bolt. Everything feels different, and he’s not sure how exactly he feels about this contrast yet but it’s definitely far from unpleasant. 

She hooks her chin over his shoulder and leans her cheek against his. This is far more intimate than he expected, more vulnerable. His initial discomfort was beginning to wane, but ratchets back up at being so exposed-- but to what? The feeling of her steady behind him, skin to skin, slowly starts to sink in and he feels himself begin to relax into her. She keeps smoothly stroking along his torso, hands gliding over every inch of skin she can reach, not yet trying to arouse. She knows he could be content to lay for hours just being stroked, and her touch is a surprisingly simple way to calm him sometimes. He relaxes into her, finally able to let it all go, leaning his cheek into hers. She rewards him with a kiss to his cheek and a sigh of contentment. He could get used to this, he thinks. 

Her hands slowly start broaching more territory, easing him into the seduction, skimming down his thighs and arms but purposefully coming nowhere near where he’s beginning to crave her touch. He’s already half hard again and rapidly approaching full. She even lingers on his nipples, pinching, teasing and rubbing. The tease is on, he thinks, trying to will her hands closer to down below and his back arches away from her chest into her touch, squirming under her ministrations. While he’s enjoying the smooth seduction and her gentle attempts to ease him into wherever she wants to go with this, he’s starting to get a bit hot under the collar and desperate for her touch further south.

“I want you to do something for me,” she says seductively into his ear and a shiver races down his spine. Well, this is intriguing. He loves listening to her talk, he loves the dance of words and the images they evoke. He could get used to her whispering into his ear like that, her voice in that tone could make even a budget deal sexy.

She trails one finger up his now definitely rapidly hardening cock. “I think you can.” He swallows hard, trying to stay still and play into the game. This is a whole new, unknown realm, but he’s finding he just might like it. It definitely already has a few perks. 

“I want you to show me what you do when you think of me, when I’m not there.” The pads of her fingers slide up and down along his shaft in a clear signal of exactly what she means and he can’t stop the groan that it rips from his throat. She’s going to be the death of him, this woman. But what a way to go. 

“Ok,” he says, agreement falling out of his mouth before he can even think twice about it. It’s going to be weird, in a way, to have her literally over his shoulder watching him. On the other hand, it does provide her with a very interesting perspective. And to feel her surrounding him, in a very different way than usual, with that voice in his ear…. Like phone sex, but better. And given how hot she’s gotten him before, this could be quite an experience.

“Hmmmmmm…. what do you think of?” she asks, and he can hear the smile in her voice. “While you stroke your hot, hard cock, wishing it was me?” she punctuates her sentence by delivering a nip to his earlobe. Having her there adds a whole new dimension and he groans again, taking himself in hand and slowly stroking. She seems to have no particular interest on the speed front, so he decides to draw it out a little, play into the game she wants to play right now. 

“Do you think of what you’d do to me if I was there?” Her voice is stroking something deep within him, egging him on. “Do you think about fucking me until I scream? Until I cry out but you can’t even tell if it’s because I want more or from the sheer pleasure of your thick, hot cock splitting me open over and over? You know that I can’t get enough of it.” Another groan rips from his chest as he continues to stroke himself. He doesn’t even have to work at it with her putting the images straight into his mind. He snaps back to the present, as her hands drift slowly along his torso, occasionally tweaking a nipple at random intervals but mostly grounding him and keeping him with her-- not that he’d want to miss a second of this. 

“Or do you think about eating me out? My smell surrounding you, my taste on your talented tongue, my juices completely soaking your beard,” she whispers seductively into his ear. His mouth waters at the thought of her taste, and he swallows hard, thinking about how well he’s going to do just that as soon as this is over. Make her scream and cry out for him as she shoves his face into her pussy harder as she comes, her fingers tangled up in his hair. He loves to eat her out, and it’s never a chore. He could spend hours worshiping at the altar of her pussy without a care in the world. He loves the way she moans and squirms and screams under his mouth.

“Nobody’s as good as you at it. Nobody has made me come like you do. Ever.” He growls, his ego stroked as he strokes his shaft. He knows he’s good, he knows from her moans and sighs and the way her pussy clamps on his fingers as she comes for him, over and over. He knows he brings her to the heights of pleasure, playing her body like the finest instrument--and is pleased with himself when he makes her scream and cry out in a symphony of pleasure.

She goes back to playing with his nipples, bringing him back to his body again and suddenly he’s acutely aware of her breasts pressed against his back, their mutual sweat starting to make them slide and stick. “CJ….” he moans, laying his head back against her shoulder, and she kisses his exposed cheek, nuzzling against it. 

“You look so hot for me, you know that? Magnificent and strong, all of your muscles tensed up. I can feel them coiled and waiting to spring, like a cobra. I love running my hands along them right now, feeling you hold back that power for me. Your cock is so hard and thick, so ready for me. I want you in me so much right now. I’m so wet for you,” she moans into his ear, letting her hands slip down his thighs. 

“Yessss…” he hisses in anticipation. 

Just when he thinks she’s about to make contact, the tension in his body riding high, she draws her hands back up his torso and he cries out in protest. She pulls his chest tightly against hers, gentling him. He’s getting closer to coming faster than he wants, but this is just too damn hot and she’s absolutely fucking amazing.

“Or maybe you go into some fantasy world. Maybe you want to let that animal inside out, the one who loves to fuck like his life depended on it, the one who wants to scream and wail and growl. The one you usually try to keep such a tight leash on.” He imagines pounding into her, her nails scraping down his back. Something in her loves when she pushes him over the edge of his control, when he’s no longer conscious of what he’s doing in the moment, reveling in the carnality of it all. He feels like a beast, victorious when he makes her come screaming his name-- but when the fog of testosterone clears he’s always worried after that he’s hurt her somehow. She’s always quick to deny or hide any damage he might have accidentally wrought, quick to deflect or distract him until the chorus of guilt in his brain quiets down, although it still bothers him a little that she can bring that side out of him so easily. 

“Or maybe you want me to order you around...” He chokes on his own ragged breath as something hits him like a punch to the gut. Where did that even come from? Oh god. This is new territory, but fuck if he doesn’t like the idea of it all of a sudden. His mind is instantly filled with a barrage of images and he doesn’t know where they came from. He suddenly wants nothing more than to be a slave to her pleasure for a day, to be her fucktoy and used like nothing more than a tool to get off. To kneel at her feet and eat her pussy until she comes over and over and he knows nothing other than her smell and taste as she holds his head against her for hours. To worship every inch of her skin with his hands and his mouth. He drifts off momentarily, until a sharp pinch on a nipple brings him back to reality with a desperate gasp for air and a yelp of pain.

“Well, well, well,” she purrs. “ _That_ struck a chord, now didn’t it? You drifted away to somewhere quite interesting, didn’t you? Do you want to be my fucktoy for a day? A day where your only job is to do what I tell you to, when I tell you to? To eat me out until I scream and then watch as I ride that thick cock of yours like a prize stallion? To be simply a conduit for my pleasures-- whether I demand for you to give me a full body massage or to fuck me until I come over and over?”

He can’t even control or be embarrassed about the strange gurgling noise that rips from the back of his throat at just the idea, he’s so turned on. He’s already close to coming and this idea that he’s never even fathomed seems to be the hottest thing he has ever heard in his life. 

“My, my, my, Mr. Ziegler, I do believe we’ve found a hidden kink, buried so deep you didn’t even know it was there,” she says, amusement clear in her voice. He feels her legs move against his, but it doesn't register too much-- he’s so hot right now that everything is starting to blur with the need to get off. He can’t process anything else besides the voice screaming in his head and he’s beginning to overload. 

“You’re so hot and hard, you’re going to come for me soon, aren’t you? You look so good that I almost want to just push you down right now and take you for a ride.” She skirts her hand down his thighs again and he whimpers when she draws them back. “CJ…” he whines. He’s so close it hurts, the tease giving way from pleasure to pain.

“Come for me Toby. Show me how much you want me, how good I make you feel,” she orders, giving his nipple a sharp pinch and he’s gone, over the edge and screaming himself hoarse, hips thrusting into empty air, arched away from her torso but held back by her arms and legs. He almost blacks out from how hard he’s coming-- feeling like it’s being wrung out of him over and over until he has nothing left to give. It’s been ages since he’s come that hard, and he feels like a teenager again. 

He’s vaguely sure he feels her reach between them to stroke herself off, coming quickly and grinding her hips against his and clutching him to her like the only anchor in a storm as she comes. It seems like she came pretty quickly and fairly hard, but Sam’s Cheese Day aliens could land in the next room and he wouldn’t be capable of fully processing what’s going on right now so he hopes she’s assuaged until he can come back to reality and make her come like this himself. 

They’re both breathing hard as he comes back to himself, opening his eyes to look at her. He’s leaning his head against her shoulder again, still wrung out from his orgasm, and she nuzzles against his cheek, letting their breaths mingle.

“God, that was so hot, Toby. So, _so_ hot. Thank you,” she says, kissing him thoroughly. He makes a contented rumble as he kisses her back, relaxed from a stupefying orgasm and her clear approval. Her hands are still making random passes along his skin, but slower now. He feels the weight of her legs pinning him down and relaxes into it.

“I didn’t know you liked to watch,” he finally manages to say, voice low and gravelly, hoarse from screaming.

She smiles at both the sound and the content. “Well, you do now. And I might need a repeat performance sometime. Not even might. Will.” “Only if I can have you after.”

“Of course, you can always have me, you know that. As hot as that all was, I did miss having you in me. There was one point that I almost called it off and climbed on you right there, you were so hot that I almost couldn’t stand it, you looked so fucking perfect. But Jesus, Toby, you were _so_ into it, and you were the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, hanging on my every word.” She kisses him again, smoothly, content to just revel with him for a moment in their closeness. 

“You scared me for a second there, though-- I thought I’d have to do CPR on you. You completely left your body and I thought for a moment that I’d actually killed you. I’d say please don’t do that again, but you were so fucking turned on that I don’t want to discourage it too much,” she says with a leer in her voice. “You practically levitated off the bed when you came-- and went all the way out past Jupiter before you came back. I could, however, really do without the scare of you forgetting to breathe though.” 

“Sorry,” he says demurely. “But I haven’t come that hard in ages, Christ. Your voice….” he trails off into a rough groan.

“You and words, that was an easy one to guess,” she says with a laugh. “Definitely worth a repeat sometime though. And apparently we’ve got a whole new avenue to explore. Maybe I will have to strap my stud to the bed so tight he can’t move & make him my fucktoy one night," she murmurs into his ear in a devilish tone.

He feels a jolt down to his spent cock and groans, clutching convulsively at her thigh. "You will be the death of me, woman," he says, turning his head to kiss at her jawline.

"Already have-- la petit mort," she says with a giggle. 

"The best kind," he rumbles, smiling. He tries to shift out of her lap to get a better angle to kiss her & move his attention to making her come as hard as he just did, but the legs and arms wrapped around him tighten.

“Stay,” she orders gently, pressing herself tightly against him to keep him from moving away. He wants to resist, but a shiver runs down his spine too. She’s tapped into something deep, and now she’s going to be insatiably curious.

She folds her arms around his torso, holding him close to her and stroking through his chest hair, soothing, hooking her chin over his shoulder again. She rests her head against his cheek, and something in his chest unfurls. She keeps stroking him slowly as he relaxes into her embrace-- she’s long figured out that stroking him like a big cat will soothe him more than almost anything else, especially after he’s come. 

He turns his head at an awkward attempt to kiss her and she pulls him tighter against her as they kiss as thoroughly as they can at the angle. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all but the rest of him would rather taste her instead. “Later,” she says, seemingly reading his mind. 

Her hands start moving slower, relaxing into the embrace herself. She tangles their fingers together, laying her arms on top of his, settling them both. He feels completely surrounded by her and it’s both comforting and fascinating to be on the other end for once. 

She usually likes to lay her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat-- a charming hidden sentimentality that he isn’t sure he ever would have picked for her but he loves nevertheless. Instead, it’s his turn to listen to hers slow as they relax together and he lets slip his grip on consciousness. 

He’s determined to pay her back since he knows how turned on she was and isn’t 100% sure she got the orgasm she deserved after that adventure--but also decides that a nap is order first since she seems to be insisting on keeping him here. 

He turns his head into her neck, nuzzling into her, burying himself in the smell of her skin and sweat. He feels her give a great sigh of her own, underneath him, finally settling in, and he can’t stop the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.


End file.
